X-Men: The Beautiful People
by Cap808
Summary: Mutants. They have always been feared and hated by the general public just because they were born different. Not anymore. With one small change in history, the X-Men have become rich, famous, and beloved. -I decided to change this story into chapter form- Please read and reviews are most definitely welcome!


**The X-Men – The Beautiful People**

**T-minus 3 days till take off…**

Reed Richards was a nervous wreck. He so desperately wanted to make a name for himself by furthering the United States' space program. A certified genius before he was 9 years old, Reed had advanced through every level of school at an accelerated pace.

Reed had entered college by the time he was 15 years old, and by 23, had attained the title of PHD and MD in several fields. At age 24, Reed was brought into NASA's most prestigious thinktank. More recently, he had helped design and construct a ship that he believed would help him become a pioneer of the space ways.

Now, he stood here sweating profusely. While he was qualified to serve as an engineer on the flight, NASA refused to let him be a part of the ship's crew. It was too risky they said, and he was too valuable to the program.

Desperation had driven him to this moment. He was going to hijack the spaceship he had unofficially dubbed, the 'Excelsior'. There was one big problem, though. He wasn't a pilot. That was where he hoped his best friend, Ben Grimm, would come in.

Ben sat dumbfounded after listening to Reed. He remembered promising Reed that he'd pilot his spaceship if Reed ever built one, they were just dumb kids at the time. Well, Ben was dumb, Reed was already a genius. But come on…a freaking spaceship?

Ben sighed. Reed had every level of security clearance and had taken Ben to see it. The spaceship. As impressive as it was, the reality of the situation was that once they got past the illegal aspects of this idea, Ben couldn't pilot the ship by himself.

Ben turned to the only man in the world he could trust with a plan that could be deemed conspiratorial - Major Christopher Summers.

Summers was one of Grimm's superiors, and known in the Air Force to be quite the adventurer in his own right. If anyone was crazy enough to help Ben and Reed, it would be Major Summers. Reed hated the idea of getting anyone else involved and ultimately arrested, but he also understood that trailblazing came with repercussions.

The trio sat in Major Summers' office as the Major tried to digest the insanity that Ben Grimm had just fed him.

"So let me get this straight, Ben," Major Summers said incredulously. "You want me to join you in some sort of haphazard voyage into space?"

Ben nodded sheepishly.

"To look for a supposed 'Negative Zone' that could be a gateway to other universes?"

Ben nodded again, but this time with a slight grin.

"And…" Summers says with a dramatic pause and raised eyebrow. "This would all happen in an experimental spacecraft that this egghead built for NASA, and now wants to steal? No offense, Richards."

Ben chuckles, turns to Reed and realizes that the egghead comment was spot on. Reed just sat there, smiling uncomfortably.

"Yes, Major Summers," Ben said. "I know it sounds like I've lost my mind, hell, I probably have! But Reed is my best friend, and I trust him."

Major Summers stood up on legs that weren't as sturdy as they had been before Grimm told him of this outrageous plan, and began to pace the room.

"What about cosmic rays?" he then asked.

"I've taken that into account, Major," Reed says. "The ship's shielding will hold up."

Major Summers eyed Reed suspiciously before turning to Ben.

"A NASA spaceship," Major Summers muttered as he continued to pace the room. "Good God we're going to be court-martialed."

Ben nods, "This is off the charts irresponsible and dangerous, Major. I wouldn't worry about a court martial. We're probably going to die horribly in space."

The room fell quiet.

"I wouldn't blame you if you decide not to do this, Major," Ben says solemnly.

Major Summers sighs. "Didn't say I wasn't going to do it. I love my country. If anyone is going to conquer space first, it's going to be the good ol' U.S. of A!"

Ben smiled.

"You're still going to owe me, Grimm." Major Summers growls.

"You won't regret this, Major," Reed says with an elastic smile.

"I'm not so sure of that," Major Summers begins. "I'm supposed to be taking my wife and two sons on a trip to Alaska on our plane next week."

The three men shook hands and immediately began planning their adventure.

As Major Summers filled his coffee, Ben smiled and slapped Reed on the back.

"This is all because of you," Ben chuckled. "Our very own, Mr. Fantastic."

**T-minus 2 days until takeoff…**

Reed Richards finds himself breaking up with the girl of his dreams, Susan Storm. When Reed told her of his plans to race into space, she wanted to go with him. Unfortunately, Major Summers was very adamant that the crew would consist of only him, Reed, and Ben.

As much as Reed wanted Susan to come with him, Major Summers was right. The risks and repercussions of this groundbreaking expedition were too high. Even if the mission was a success, they were going to face severe penalties. Oh well, all in the name of science.

Susan's little brother Johnny had come to pick her up. The young firecracker had threatened to punch Reed in the face before speeding off with Susan crying in the front seat of his hot rod. Reed could only hope that Susan would one day forgive him.

Sadly, Reed would never see Susan again.

**Two hours after takeoff…**

Somewhere on the shores of the United Kingdom, Ben Grimm regains consciousness and tries to take in the carnage of the crash. He realized that he was probably in shock, but it helped to dull the sight of his friend's corpses. Reed Richards and Major Christopher Summers weren't as lucky as him.

Ben tried to focus his eyes. There were rocks everywhere around the crash site. These weren't ordinary rocks though. These rocks had shapes like arms, and torsos, and…heads?

Ben had a sudden thought that they had crashed onto a field of statues. Then one of the broken stone men began to crawl in his direction. The stone man was missing its legs, but he got close enough to reached out to Ben. One of its massive, stone hands grabbed Ben's leg and the rough, rocky fingers gouged a wound that Ben sustained in the crash.

Ben's body began to convulse as his mind is flooded with the creature's thought patterns. His name was Korg, and he was part of an alien race called the Kronan. He and his crew were part of an advanced invasion party from their planet.

They were headed for Earth's Northern hemisphere, specifically Norway. The human ship was unexpected and collided with them upon entering Earth's atmosphere. The subsequent crash brought them down hundreds of miles from their intended landing zone.

His skull struggling against the pressure of the alien's forced telepathy, Ben can then 'hear' Korg send a distress call to his home planet.

"Under attack by an Earth ship!" Korg's gravelly voice exclaimed.

"The humans are much more dangerous than anticipated! Stop the invasion!"

The transmission ends abruptly.

Ben snaps out of his trance in time to see Korg take his last breath.

Ben passes out from the pain. Along with the bodies of his comrades and the aliens, Ben is removed from the area later that evening by a British team of scientists and eventually turned over to the United States special research area, Project Pegasus.

Hundreds of miles away, a young doctor from the United States, Donald Blake, enjoys an uneventful vacation in Norway before returning to his practice in New York a week later.

**10 years later…**

**The Middle East**

Scott Summers thrived on this. Just over the legal drinking age, he found himself alone in the deserts of Iraq. He loved his job as a man-hunter, but things were a little different this time. Instead of bringing a man to justice and collecting a bounty, Stark industries had hired him to bring back their benefactor. Preferably in one piece.

It was well known that billionaire Tony Stark had a heart condition, but that didn't stop him from coming to Iraq. Guarded by a team of Army Rangers, Mr. Stark was here to find solutions to what was becoming an expensive, and unpopular war. Predictably, terrorists in the region abducted Mr. Stark, and the philanthropist now spent his days behind bars in a dark, dusty, cave.

Scott had hiked for two days to get to this compound, and now that he was here his mind went into that 'zone', where he planned out a strategy. Before his mother died, she told Scott that he was every bit as intelligent as his father. A father who helped hijack a secret spaceship that malfunctioned and crashed.

His mother had been pregnant when his father, Major Christopher Summers, died. The doctor said the resulting stress caused her to lose the child. A year later, she died. Scott and his younger brother, Alex, became teenage orphans that no one would adopt. They had been put into separate orphanages, supposedly to better their chances of adoption.

Scott hadn't seen or heard, from Alex since.

As if all of that wasn't enough for a teenager to deal with, Scott suffered from constant headaches. Little did he know it was the beginning of his mutation. Scott had the ability to shoot blasts of energy from his eyes. His aim was perfect. Why wouldn't it be? The beams came straight out of his eyes!

With this discovery and development, Scott ran away from the orphanage. Empowered, he committed his first minor crime at 15 years of age. Nothing serious, just enough money or goods to survive. He grew up in the streets, impressed the right people, and was an official bounty hunter at the age of 18.

Over the years his reputation grew. Enough to get a billion dollar company like Stark Industries to call him. It was now time to earn a very healthy paycheck.

Scott sat in silence taking note of all the soldiers in the compound. This was going to be easy. Three snipers in three towers, and the rest of them lumped together in one building. Gambling probably.

Scott came up with a plan almost immediately. He would use the same strategy that he used to free the Maximoff siblings from that 'concentration camp', in Prague. That place was a hellhole too, but their father paid him a lot of money. It was a little odd that once they found out who hired him, they were no longer in any hurry to return home with him.

Scott snapped back to the present. He took one last look around the compound and then fired. The building exploded with one big force beam, and everyone in it was either knocked out by the concussive force or…expired.

Scott took out the snipers one by one. It was too easy. Being in those perches, the snipers were sitting ducks. Scott was too quick on the draw, and his optic blasts too devastating. The siege was over within a couple of minutes.

Scott carefully walked down to the cave where they kept the man he was here for. The prisoners in the cave began to cheer, and some even rejoiced by crying. One man simply smiled. The man Scott was here to rescue, Tony Stark.

"You okay, Mr. Stark?" Scott asked.

Tony looked up at the young man. He was a good looking kid, roguishly charming if Tony said so himself. He was quite calm and from Stark had heard, this kid had just unleashed hell on a compound full of terrorists all by himself.

"I'm okay, kid," Tony said. "Just a little distracted. You here for me?"

"Yes, sir," Scott replied. "I have a Mr. James Rhodes en route to evacuate us, as well as any other survivors."

As Scott helped Tony out of the cage, Tony surveyed the destruction.

"Great job, kid," Tony said. "If you didn't get to me in the next couple of days, I would have had to try some crazy plans of my own."

"Really, sir?" Scott asked, genuinely curious. "Such as?"

Tony chuckled. Being a captive can make the mind think some crazy things. Creating a suit of armor out of spare tank parts would have been outlandish, even for him.

"Doesn't matter, kid," Tony smirked. "Let's go home."

Scott Summers led the world famous Tony Stark, and 7 other American survivors out of the Middle East. He was now a hero. Even with the impending accolades, all Scott could think about throughout the helicopter ride home was Wanda.

**New York University, New York**

Midtown High School student, Peter Parker, slowly daydreams his way through a public science exhibit at New York University. It was an outing he had been looking forward to for a while. He was at home here. Nerds from hundreds of other high schools and universities were in attendance as well.

Peter passed an exhibit of spiders. Nothing too interesting, arachnid attributes and possible mutations. Peter stood inches away from one of the displays, staring at the spiders, trying to get a good look at their mandibles.

From behind him, a big, meaty hand pushes him against the glass display. A chorus of laughter follows.

"Ha!" the large figure says, "Puny Parker wants to kiss a spider!"

Peter turns, adjusts his glasses and meekly mumbles, "I'm not afraid of you, Flash."

Flash Thompson growls, "What did you say, Parker?"

A hand even bigger than the bully's, grabs Flash by the shoulder.

"I believe his response was that he was in no way intimidated by you," the voice said.

"Obviously, your belligerence is a recurring theme, and it appears to be wearing thin on his patience."

Peter turned to see the person behind the voice. It was a young man, probably the same age as Peter, but he was as big. He was the same height at Flash, but so much broader! Yet, Peter felt an instant relationship with the young man due to their matching glasses and similar sweater-vests.

"I don't know who you are," Flash threatens, "But this is none of your business."

Posturing, Flash nervously looked at the muscular teenager, hoping that he wouldn't call Flash's bluff. While this kid had a presence about him, he wore glasses! He had to be a nerd, right?

"My name is Hank McCoy," the young man answered. "And now that we've been properly introduced, we can either depart as friends, or resort to barbarism, which in turn always seems to lead to fisticuffs."

Flash's friends gather around him, and their angry mob mentality becomes tangible.

Hank places himself between Flash and Peter.

"We don't have to do this," Hank says to Flash.

"Ha," Flash snorted. "Sounds like you're chicken."

Flash and his friends rush forward, and with uncanny agility and speed, Hank begins to gently dance around the bullies. His strength and grace come together as he ties all of the bullies up with their own jackets. The six burly teenagers now sat on the floor, wondering what had just happened. He manhandled them, but they barely felt a thing!

A hush came over the crowd that had gathered to watch the conflict.

Hank squats next to Flash.

"I am a pacifist by nature," Hank begins. "But I believe in standing up for what's right. In the future, I would appreciate you gentlemen leaving my friend alone."

Hank then walks over to Peter.

"I believe that these Neanderthals will be leaving you alone in the future, my friend."

Peter didn't know what to say. This person was just like him, but so…big. Especially his hands and feet. All he could do was smile awkwardly.

Hank quickly reaches over Peter's shoulder and squashes a spider about to land on Peter.

"Ew," Hank cringed. "I hate bugs. Having said that, have a great day, chum."

Hank turns to leave, puts his NYU varsity football jacket back on, and leaves.

**Worthington Industries, New York**

Warren Worthington III strolls through the hallways of his incubator building. Dozens of young scientists, doctors, and experts in many fields, work passionately on projects that Warren funds. This was where ideas were made into reality. Unfortunately, many of these young geniuses took Warren for granted.

Popular opinion was that Warren was too young to be in charge, and many of the scientists under the employ of Worthington Industries were very vocal about their discontent with the young man. To maintain a positive and productive, environment, Warren had just fired seven of the most brilliant men in the city, and he wasn't done yet.

Hank Pym pounded his desk. It had been months since he had made any progress on his 'Pym Particles', and the rumor was that the bratty owner of the company was coming around and cutting anyone he considered dead weight. The arrogance of Worthington!

As always though, Pym had a plan.

He would show off his beings of artificial intelligence. Ultron and the Vision. Sure, they were still in the experimental stage, but they would be more than enough to impress some pretty boy, rich kid.

Pym turned the Vision on and got ready for Worthington's interrogation.

"Hello, Dr. Pym," the syntehzoid's monotone voice forced out. "The Vision is online."

The voice still gave Pym the creeps. He would have to adjust it later.

"Hello, Vision," Pym said. "Our trashy benefactor will be here in a few moments, and we need to impress him."

"Yes, Dr. Pym," the Vision concurred. "I will do my best to impress our benefactor."

"Good man, Vision," Pym chuckled.

Moments later, Worthington walked in.

"Good afternoon, Dr. Pym."

"Good afternoon, Mr. Worthington," Pym mumbled through a fake smile.

"Please, call me Warren."

Hank Pym nods as Warren walked over to the Vision. The synthezoid's eyes eerily followed Warren's every move.

"Wow," Warren said. "Who is this guy?"

Pym rushed over to their side and said, "This is the Vision. He's a synthezoid with an artificial intelligence to go along with some very innovative abilities."

"Artificial intelligence?" Warren asked. "Does that mean they have free will?"

Pym was both nervous and suspicious of Warren's line of questioning.

"Eventually he could," Pym shrugged. "He's been learning on the fly. I've been introducing him to as many different thought processes as possible."

The Vision looked from Pym to Worthington.

"Really?" Warren asked. "So, his thoughts are based on yours?"

Pym shrugged, "I guess you could say that."

Warren smiled, "If that's the case, I don't need both of you. One of you will have to go…"

Hank Pym's face dropped in shock.

Warren slapped Pym on the shoulder, "Just kidding, Doctor Pym. It's been a tough morning and I was just trying to lighten the mood a litt…"

Before Warren can finish his sentence, the Vision angrily grabs him by the throat, calmly walks him over to the window, and casually throws him out of it.

"He is no longer a nuisance to you, Dr. Pym," the Vision says matter-of-factly.

"Vision!" Pym screams. "What have you done?"

"I don't understand…" the Vision begins.

"You've killed him!" Pym shrieks. "We are in so much trouble!"

"I do not appreciate your tone, Doctor Pym," the Vision says cryptically.

Hank Pym is incredulous. He watches as the Vision begins to walk towards him. Always afraid that something like this could happen, Pym pulls out a remote control and presses a failsafe button. The Vision abruptly stops in his tracks.

Pym frantically rushes to the window, fully expecting to see Warren splattered on the road below him. Pym was a man of science, and he taught himself to only believe something when he saw it. The sight of a shirtless Warren flying up towards the window made him doubt himself.

The young billionaire was flying! A a large set of majestic, white wings protruded from his back and flapped to keep him airborne. The large wings made a thumping noise as they moved.

"Now you're fired, Dr. Pym," Warren says sternly.

"My research…" Pym blurts out.

"Are property of Worthington Industries," Warren reminds him. "And will be disposed of immediately by security."

**Pearl Harbor, Hawaii – The Arizona Memorial**

Shiro Yoshida's blood is boiling. Literally, boiling. He was a proud young man, who still blamed the United States for their actions in World War II.

The bomb that the United States felt necessary to drop in his homeland, affected a lot of people, even to this day. Shiro believed that the subsequent radiation was what made him what he is, some sort of freak.

Shiro was handsome, rich, and came from a powerful family, but Shiro was also born with the ability to manipulate the fires of the sun. To be different brought shame to the family, and Shiro spent many years trying to avoid who he was.

More recently though, Shiro would sneak away from his family and their resources, and he would just fly. Above Japan's highest mountains, and across the Pacific Ocean. His curse was also his liberation.

Shiro would test his powers on tiny, uninhabited islands. No one to judge him, and no one for him to hate. Those experiences helped maintain what inner peace he had.

It's amazing what one could see flying over the open ocean. Shiro had seen giant squids, ancient Japanese shipwrecks, and then there was that one time the fish-man came rocketing out of the middle of the sea.

The fish-man was disheveled, with long bushy hair, and an unruly beard. The first thing Shiro noticed was the pointy ears, and then those amazing wings on his ankles! The fish-man was inhumanly strong and grabbed Shiro in an unbreakable grip.

He screamed at Shiro in an American accent, cursing humanity and threatening to flood the world. Shiro had never known true fear before this. The fish-man was a maniac.

For the briefest moment, Shiro could see a little bit of himself in the man's eyes and it humbled him. As the fish-man began to strangle him, Shiro had no choice. Shiro was sure he would have died had he not unleashed all the fires within him.

Burned beyond recovery, the fish-man fell into the Pacific Ocean, somewhere between Japan and Hawaii. That day brought Shiro full circle. It made him realize that he was heading down a lonely road.

Thankfully someone named Scott Summers called him with a proposition. It sounded scary, it sounded crazy, but most of all it sounded exciting. From Hawaii, Shiro would jump on a plane to Dallas, and then on another to New York, to meet Scott and the rest of his 'people'.

**New York City, Greenwich Village**

Ororo Munroe sat at the bedside of a man she didn't know. She came to visit him here in the hospital quite often. She felt obligated to be here.

Originally, she didn't know who this John Doe was, or what exactly had happened to him. Yet, she felt responsible for his condition. More recently, the neurosurgeon taking care of him, hypothesized that this man had suffered a severe form of mental trauma.

Ororo teared up as she thought back to that fateful day in Cairo. She was a young pickpocket trying to earn her daily keep. She had just tried to lift this man's wallet, but amazingly, he had stopped her. That in itself was near impossible. No one had ever stopped her before!

That was when things got weird. Ororo could have sworn the man spoke to her with his mind! Ororo also remembers a feeling of dread coming over her, as another presence entered her mind.

It was a darker, evil presence. It was there to kill the first man, Ororo was collateral damage at that point and was headed for a lifetime of psychic enslavement. Yet the shock of having these foreign presences in her mind, triggered something in Ororo. The last thing she remembered was lightning striking her and this poor man she had tried to rob.

She wasn't sure what had happened to the darker presence, but this man ended up in the hospital. While physically he had healed, he had never regained consciousness. Ororo had grown quite a bit since then, and even learned to control her powers of weather manipulation.

Ororo scoured every hospital in Africa, eventually learning who he was, and that this man had been an American citizen and had been transferred back to his home. Ororo eventually made her way to America, and using her skills as a thief, convinced anyone who asked that she was his niece.

Ororo held vigil over him whenever she could, hoping that one day he would wake up. Having spent so much time with this man, she got to know his doctor quite well. It was an intriguing case, and Dr. Stephen Strange took great interest in the patient.

He believed that he would find a way to bring this man out of his coma. He worked relentlessly, running test after test, and spreading himself way too thin. His refusal to admit that he had any limits, bordered on arrogance.

One night, as Ororo sat watching over the patient, an exhausted Dr. Strange bid her goodnight. Ororo could see that the doctor was in a bad way and it concerned her. Trusting her instincts, she decided to follow the doctor home.

Flying over him, the doctor's erratic driving on the snow-slicked roads scared her. To her horror, Dr. Strange lost control of his car. It was like a scene from a bad, predictable movie, the car swerved and began to fishtail uncontrollably.

Thankfully, Ororo had expected the worst, and even though she was surprised, she was still able to use her powers, conjuring high winds to keep the doctor's car upright. A man of medicine and science, the doctor could only determine that it was divine intervention that prevented him from having a major car accident.

This would always be her little secret and checking in on Dr. Strange would always be her burden. After all, she was the reason that this man, Charles Xavier, was in a coma in the first place.

**New Mexico, Area 51**

Wanda Maximoff did her best to keep the crowd at bay without hurting anyone. Her brother, Pietro often referred to her powers as a 'hex', whereas she referred to them as her 'charms'. It was good luck for some, and bad luck for others. Whatever you called it, Wanda did admit that it could at times be unpredictable.

Her boyfriend, Scott Summers, had asked them to attend this protest of a Gamma bomb testing. They expected a fugitive to be in attendance, and he was a big payout. The man in question was Emil Blonsky, some sort of psycho scientist who wanted to sabotage any, and all gamma testing and experimenting.

Wanda and Pietro had gotten there in time to find Blonsky inciting a crowd of protestors into a riot. While Pietro removed Blonsky to a holding house, Wanda tried to calm the crowd down. This was going to be a challenge, because her powers always seemed to be much more focused when she could concentrate on one person or event. A crowd this big always ran the risk of a scattered charm.

Luckily for her, this particular charm had the crowd putting their hands in the air as if they were trees, and dancing. It was as if they were all at some sort of outdoor festival. Wanda could only guess that this whole environment triggered the memory of Woodstock in her, and she in turn, projected that onto the crowd.

Behind her, she heard a muffled boom, which came out more as a, 'thump'. Then there was a pale, green glow from the horizon. Racing past that danger, her brother, Pietro ran up to her with a scrawny scientist in his arms.

"Who is this little man, Pietro?" she asked.

The man cleared his throat, "My name is Dr. Bruce Banner. I was rushing out to the test site to calm the protestors. Then, uh…"

Pietro's patience got the best of him. "I had stopped in the observatory to see how long we had until the countdown. It seems that Dr. Banner here had no regard for himself, because he decided to leave the room just as the countdown started."

"Needless to say," Dr. Banner stammered. "I appreciate your help…"

"Save it, dork," Pietro cut him off.

Pietro grabbed Wanda, who waved goodbye to Banner, before she was whisked away by her brother. She was excited to be reunited with Scott. He had called them earlier and said that he had found some new candidates and they were almost ready to expand their operations.

Left behind with the rest of the crowd, Dr. Banner couldn't shake the sudden urge to dance.

**END PART 1**


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